Of Yellow and Turquoise Hearts
by tere moto the sentry
Summary: Spongebob/Squidward. A collection of one shots featuring romance between our favorite sponge and...um, squid/octopus guy.
1. Musing

**Musing**

Business was slow one afternoon at the Krusty Krab, and Spongebob, having already sung all of his current favorite songs, was becoming increasingly bored. Sensing this from experience, Squidward mentally groaned and counted down to the inevitable—

"Hey, Squidward?"

Ugh. He had not even gotten down to one this time.

"Hrm," he grunted in reply.

"I was just thinking…Do you think I'll ever get married?"

Squidward took a moment to rack his brain for the ideal witty and hurtful answer to give him. But as the appropriate moment was about to slip by he settled for something milder. "To what? A rock? That would probably be your best bet, seeing as it couldn't complain about you." He afforded the remark one of his nasal chuckles before turning back to his magazine.

But he soon felt an odd tingling on the back of his head, and before he had time to rub at it he realized he was actually detecting Spongebob's gaze still fixed on him. He looked back at his co-worker with a scowl.

"Don't look at me that way! _I'm_ not going to be the unlucky lady who ends up with you."

This made Spongebob giggle. "Dahahaha, oh Squidward. I think _I_ would be the lady."


	2. Policy

**Policy**

As a competitive business owner and manager Eugene Krabs made it a point to keep up with news of other prominent business heads in the area. To learn what new practices and policies they were instilling in the workplace; how they were keeping their companies running smoothly; and most importantly, how they were increasing profit. But one common concern that was cropping up recently peaked his interest: many companies were finding it necessary to pass policies against inter-employee dating to inhibit the rising frequency of unprofessional…"gestures" among workers while on duty.

Mr. Krabs had never felt the need to instill such a doctrine on his own restaurant, since his workforce had always incidentally been primarily male, and his laborers in the past rarely took any interest in each other past casual friends. He remembered having been delighted with his choice when "Patricia" had joined the Krusty Krew, as it allowed him (and to his chagrin, Squidward) the freedom to woo her after he hired her. But the whole ordeal still left a bad taste in his mouth, as learning that his crush was actually Patrick in disguise had shattered both the crustacean and the cephalopod beyond comprehension.

But at least that incident had been well over a year ago now. And it was exactly _because_ so much time had passed since then that Krabs was quite dumbfounded when Squidward—uniform hat being nervously wrung in his hands—entered his office one morning to hesitantly ask if there was still no co-worker dating ban established at the Krusty Krab. An awkward silence passed before Mr. Krabs found himself able to confirm that no, he had not made any new additions to the company rules regarding the matter.

Krabs could always tell when the face of his normally gloomy cashier brightened even slightly, and brighten it did at this news. Squidward exited the office immediately afterward—arguably with somewhat of a spring in his step—and Krabs, considering his only two employees, was left pondering the implications of Squidward's visit and inquiry.

Finally, when the initial surprise faded, he was able to return to his paperwork. A tiny childish smile playing on his lips, he made a mental note that it would only be professional to keep any possible congratulatory winks and nudges down to a minimum.


	3. Partay

**Par-tay**

Some of Squidward's least favorite times of the year were holidays, or at least those he didn't get off work for. Halloween was a particularly ugly time for him. Sure, it was no April Fool's Day, but he despised being disturbed all throughout one evening each year by costumed, sugar-hyped kids asking for candy. And to make matters worse, every year around Halloween Mr. Krabs threw a costume party at the Krusty Krab—attendance mandatory for all employees.

What's more, _costumes_ were mandatory for all employees.

"Aw, come on, Mister Squidward, show some holiday spirit! _Ararararar._"

"Yeah, Squidward, it's fun! You get to dress up like someone else, but you don't have to change who you really are! Isn't that great! _Dahahaha!_"

Squidward shuddered in disgust at the thought. Besides, idly reading a _Fancy Living Digest_ at a party full of screaming and laughing was worse than idly reading a _Fancy Living Digest_ during work.

He also regretted waiting until the last minute to dig up his old Flying Dutchman costume from the depths of his closet, because when he finally did so, it was nowhere to be found. Cursing his luck, he dragged his tentacles to the nearest Halloween store—only to find that, with it being the last minute, all of the good costumes had been picked over.

The clerk led him over to the only four remaining in stock: a pickle, a race boat, a rather itchy-looking and unidentifiable stuffed animal…and a broken heart. Or rather, the right half of a broken heart.

"It's one of a pair of interlocking halves," the clerk told him sympathetically. "Someone came in a few days ago and got the other one."

Groaning, Squidward decided it was his best choice. He reassured himself that he had been forced to wear more embarrassing costumes than this before; and besides…a broken heart…He felt he could somehow relate to it.

"I guess I'll take it."

Arriving at the party, he did his best to keep his head down, face buried in his magazine, hoping that no one would recognize who was inside the bright red eyesore moving through the crowd. But even this month's larger special autumn issue of Fancy Living Digest didn't hide the turquoise tentacles that stood out against the crimson red. He tried to ignore the whispers and giggles by losing himself in a classy article about designer upholstery.

But doing so meant he failed to see the far wall before hitting it. Knowing that everyone had been watching him, he knew of no way to save face. He pressed himself into the wall, attempting to sink into it, and continued to read with the hope that the more distracting festivities would be introduced soon.

Squidward had made it through two pages before the last two fashionably late guests arrived. He glanced up dully to see a pink, round zombie cyborg cowboy burst through the doors with enough whooping and hollering for all of the partygoers. Squidward's eyes were on their way back to the magazine when, in horror, he caught sight of who Patrick preceded. Spongebob of course, but the octopus' jaw dropped at seeing that the yellow face and limbs sprouted from a familiar red plush structure.

Spongebob was the left half of a broken heart.

And the poor cephalopod did not have time to pick his jaw up and duck back into the magazine before his co-worker spotted him.

"_Wow, Squidward! We match!_" Spongebob cried out across the room to him. Oblivious to the snickering around them, the little sponge bounced happily over to his idol. But it was there that he was able to catch the upset look on Squidward's face.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Squidward. I didn't know, honest!" he told him empathetically. "Patrick was supposed to be my other half, but he happened to read some new comic book and change his mind at the last second."

Seeing all the tension in the room, Spongebob sheepishly moved closer to Squidward until they were directly side-by-side. The soft jagged edges of the two costumes were joined together, and thus two halves made a whole.

"Wow," Spongebob commented with half a smile. "They really _do_ fit together."

When his companion said nothing, Spongebob twiddled his thumbs. "You know, Squidward…You _are_ my better half."

Try as he may, Squidward could not seem to ignore Patrick's remark: "And now it's a party."


	4. Lips

Author's Note: This one takes place right after the episode "Love That Squid".

**Lips**

Squidward felt weightless. He couldn't remember when he last felt like this, but he didn't care—he felt this way _now._ Nothing else seemed to matter.

To say that his date with the beautiful Squilvia the previous evening went off without a hitch would be as much of an understatement as to say he was confident in his artistic abilities. They hit it off before dinner had even been served. And though he hated to acknowledge it, the tips Spongebob had given him during their "practice date" had indeed been helpful. He managed to work them in even while freezing up in Squilvia's gaze.

Once again feeling on top of his game, today he embraced the morning air with a blissful smile. He literally skipped down his front walk, humming the most lighthearted tune he could think of. Eyes closed in his carefree mood, he abruptly collided with a certain someone waiting to greet him.

"Good morning, Squidward!" Spongebob was clearly pleased to see his neighbor in good humor. "So how did it go?" He winked.

Squidward smiled proudly. "Heh heh well…you know what a charmer I am…"

"That I do, Squid, that I do."

"Well, a smile and a wink and she couldn't get enough of me."

"Woo hoo Squiddy! Did those tips do anything for ya?"

"Eh, well I guess they did come in handy a bit…But of course what really sealed the deal was my natural suavity."

"Wow." Spongebob nodded his approval.

"Yep, it hooks the ladies every time."

Spongebob smirked. "Did it hook her enough for…y'know, a certain 'k'-word?"

"Hm?" Squidward questioned.

"Did you two _kiss?_" A tiny yellow elbow nudged him.

If the octopus' bulbous head could have swollen any larger, it certainly did at that moment. "Weh-heh-heh-ell, you know, I drew her in with my charm and wit and tales of my accomplishments, and—" He glanced at Spongebob—and stopped.

Something was in those large blue eyes—something about how the morning light sparkled in them, magnifying the youthful innocence in his gaze—it drew him in somehow. Squidward always knew the little sponge idolized him, but now he realized there was something enchanting about the way he stood with bated breath, hanging on his every word…eager for his answer—

His answer. Squidward recomposed himself. "Well, I…she…What was the question again?"

But rather than answer him, Spongebob did something that Squidward would never have expected, even from Spongebob. All in one swift motion, he stood on his toes, aimed for the cephalopod's face, and planted his lips firmly on Squidward's.

The force and resulting surprise of the gesture caused Squidward to lose his balance and fall backwards, forcing him to wrap one tentacle around the sponge's back to keep from hitting the ground. Though normally weightless, Spongebob stood firmly on the ground to support him. He placed his small hands around the round head and pressed his face closer.

As he was still trying to process what was happening, Squidward was too disoriented to pull away. Though his face was too close to see the other face clearly, he noticed the large blue eyes rolling upwards thoughtfully, the brow furrowing—almost as if Spongebob were testing Squidward's lips.

Finally, seeming satisfied, Spongebob broke contact and smiled at him. The sponge's tongue grazed his own lips and he giggled knowingly.

"Oh, you two kissed all right. Mm, she was wearing watermelon lip balm." He waved goodbye and headed off on his way.

Squidward stood frozen in shock. _Shock_…but not fury. As he finally began to realize what had just taken place, he found himself strangely wishing he could have been more aware of it during the act. Perhaps then he could have…could have…?

Perhaps he could have enjoyed it.

But then, maybe another opportunity would arise at some point. After all, one could never have too many "practice" dates.


	5. The Phosisticated Hot Rod

**The Phosisticated Hot Rod**

With a dead-end fast food job, unrecognized talent, and of course, annoying neighbors, Squidward felt it was not too much to ask for his daily walk to work to be a peaceful temporary respite from his everyday life. Unfortunately, he was normally not afforded even that. Seeing as Spongebob worked the same shift at the same place, the chipper poriferan rarely missed the chance to walk alongside his idolized co-worker and share trivial stories of recent events in his life. Driving to work would indeed help Squidward get away from him (until he caught up on his unicycle), but with the pay he received, driving a walking distance each day would prove too expensive.

But oddly enough, the little yellow one was nowhere to be seen this morning. The octopus had time to breathe a sweet sigh of relief before the rumble of a vehicle sounded from behind him. He stepped off the street and continued walking, but the boat pulled up beside him and stopped rather than driving on by. Curious, Squidward halted and turned to regard it. It was a sleek, new, tall, and admittedly sophisticated yacht. He looked up to see just what fish in Bikini Bottom was civilized enough to—

"_Spongebob?_" He was genuinely surprised to see his co-worker in the driver's seat. Of all people, Spongebob Squarepants—the guy who last week went jellyfishing naked for less wind resistance when running—had classy taste in boats?

"Hey there, Squidders!" Spongebob leaned forward to caress the yacht's hood. "Ain't she a beauty?"

"I've gotta admit, Spongebob," Squidward approved, "I had no idea you were into the finer things in life."

"Oh, you're too kind," the little sponge batted a hand at him. "But I think you'll find that she's a lot like me. She's got her phosisticated side—" he gripped the steering wheel tighter "—but she's also a hot rod." He pressed a button demonstratively and the yacht's rear flanks opened to reveal giant fire-spitting tailpipes.

Spongebob pressed a second button and the passenger door opened. "Could I offer you a ride to work, neighbor?"

Caught up in the stunning beauty of the vehicle, Squidward accepted and climbed aboard.

"Wow, you're so lucky!" Spongebob told him once he was fastened in. "You're my first passenger! I got this baby only yesterday, and I was planning on taking Patrick for a joyride around town. But then the dealer told me that this model was more suited to picking up one's _significant other._"

Squidward froze. Had he recovered from the shock of Spongebob's words sooner, he may have been able to unbuckle and hop back out of the yacht before it sped away.

But now he was stuck in the moving vehicle, and it was doubtful that Spongebob could be persuaded to stop and let him out before they reached their destination. He only hoped that they were going too fast for anyone to see them together.

But the embarrassment was nothing compared to Squidward's horror at remembering Spongebob didn't have a license.

Author's Note: I thought I'd use Spongebob's pronunciation of "sophisticated" from "Patrick Smartpants".


	6. Training

**Training**

It was a long, _long_ line, and Patrick had left his patience at home. He reached underneath his leotard and scratched his back for the umpteenth time in the past fifteen minutes, as there was little else to do while waiting for his turn at the dance tryouts. Just that and staring at the wall clock. Spongebob was uncharacteristically late. Normally he was only late (fashionably) to parties. Did this count as a party? Everyone _was_ dancing…

But he dropped the matter when his name was called in a sing-song voice from behind. Patrick excitedly whipped around to greet his best friend.

"Hi, buddy! I'm glad you showed up; I always love to win against you."

"Oh, I don't know about _that,_" Spongebob placed his hands on his hips and beamed proudly. "I've been training for nearly three weeks now."

Patrick scoffed with a smile. "You may have been practicing with Squidward, but I've got a good feeling about my new moves." He happened to take a better look at the sponge. "Oh hey, you got a giant piece of fuzz on your leotard." He grabbed the frilly pink thing around Spongebob's waist and pulled at it.

"No, no, wait, Patrick," Spongebob moved his friend's hands away. "This is a tutu."

"Oh. Did Squidward have you practice in that?"

"Yeah, every session," Spongebob adjusted the skirt. "In fact, he rarely took his eyes off me in it. He supervised my routine _really_ closely."

"So you think you're up to the challenge?"

"Oh yeah! Each time I performed my routine and asked him how I did, he just sat there with this funny, happy look on his face," Spongebob smirked. "And if Squidward Tentacles was left speechless by my dancing, then I _must_ be good."


	7. Special Friend

Author's Note: Thank you to my friend savygarnet for the title of this one.

**Special Friend**

It seemed that it was always the moment Squidward picked up a paintbrush or his clarinet that he would receive an unwanted visit from one of his irritating neighbors. And he knew all too well of their persistence; he was certain that they would not leave if he simply ignored them. No, things just weren't simple at all for him.

So it was today; just as he lifted his beloved instrument to his lips, the foreboding knock sounded at his front door. Cursing and grumbling under his breath, he placed "Clary" back on the music stand and stomped downstairs.

He took a deep breath in preparation and cautiously opened the door.

"Ohh, what a big surprise: Sponge—huh?" Squidward's sarcasm was cut short with an interjection of genuine surprise—standing behind Spongebob were two older, differently shaped sponges whose smiles almost rivaled the younger one's. Squidward felt that he had seen the two others before—

"Hey, Squid! You remember my parents, right?"

"Oh…right."

"Mom, Dad," Spongebob proudly gestured to his neighbor, "this is _the_ Squidward Tentacles."

Squidward brightened at the grandiose introduction. "That's me, all right," he bowed gracefully, ego swelling. "Squidward Tentacles, musical genius and artist extraordinaire. You may have seen some of my work in—"

"Oh yes, our boy has told us so much about you, young man," Mr. Squarepants interrupted.

"We've heard what an interesting man you are," Mrs. Squarepants piped up. "And you're every bit as handsome as Spongebob said."

"Heheh well, thank you." The octopus crossed his tentacles and basked in the praise. "Spongebob has better taste than I thought."

Mr. Squarepants smiled warmly. "Yes, well, we're just glad our son finally found someone."

Squidward's smile dropped in confusion. "Huh? What do you mean?"

"You just seem perfect for him," Mrs. Squarepants agreed with her husband.

"I…don't understand," Squidward turned his questioning look to Spongebob.

"Oh you silly," Spongebob teased his beloved neighbor as if he should have known beforehand. "I brought my parents here to meet my _special friend._"

"_Friend?_" Squidward was taken aback. "Oh no no no no," he turned to the sponge's parents. "There must be some mistake. We are most certainly _not_ friends."

Spongebob's father laughed lightheartedly. "Oh, of course. We know you're not just friends."


	8. Roses are Pink

**Roses are Pink…**

The standing ovation and following bombardment for autographs confirmed Squidward's belief that this was by far his best clarinet recital. He almost feared for his dear instrument's safety whilst moving through his clamoring fans upon exiting the stage. In fact, he noted as he chuckled giddily to himself, perhaps he should be concerned for his own welfare. He nearly received a black eye from all the microphones that interviewers were shoving in his face.

'_Ah, my dear public. They may just not let me go…_' Though he relished the limelight, it was getting late, and all good stars needed their beauty sleep.

"Well, as much as I love my fans," he announced to the crowd, "your favorite musician requires a good night's rest to be at his peak performance." He pushed through the fish until the auditorium exit was in sight.

Finally having made his way outside, he slammed the door behind him and pressed himself against it. Squidward bit his lip until the pounding on the door ceased and he heard the audience move away. Breathing a satisfied sigh, he hoped he could now walk home in peace, when—

"_Squidward!_" His biggest fan (much to his chagrin) embraced him. "That was _amazing!_ I sat in the front row and I cheered the loudest! Did ya see me? Did ya hear me? Did ya? Did ya?"

"Um, no." With his free hand (the other hand still holding the clarinet out of harm's reach) Squidward peeled the sponge off of him. "How did you—?"

"Oh, I snuck past the crowd and left through the entrance," Spongebob explained. "I had to get a minute with you so I could give you this." He presented a rose from behind his back.

"For Bikini Bottom's premiere musical genius," he added.

Squidward was taken by surprise. "Oh, well…thank you, Spongebob." He took the gift and admired it; a fresh, perfectly formed rose with a divine scent. But though a thoughtful gesture nonetheless, he did find a rather unusual aspect of the flower.

"It's…pink," he looked at Spongebob quizzically.

His "biggest fan" blinked. "Uh, yeah…Something wrong?"

"Oh—no, it's just that it's odd, because usually it's _red_ roses that are given to a performer," Squidward explained; then added: "But then again, _you're_ pretty odd, so I guess it makes sense." He hadn't really intended the comment with his usual ridicule, and Spongebob clearly took no offense.

"Ha-ha, well the thing is, the florist told me that red roses could indicate romance."

"_Oh_…of course," Squidward understood. "Wouldn't want to make that mistake."

"Yeah, that's what I told him," Spongebob agreed, "so he introduced me to the pink roses—for when it's still just a crush."


	9. Intruder

**Intruder**

A particularly trying day at the Krusty Krab had left a certain cephalopod utterly exhausted. Alas, a relaxing evening of hot tea and a good book had done little to rejuvenate him. Thus, it was his only hope that a long, deep slumber would do the trick. With half-lidded eyes he shuffled his suction cups into his evening ritual.

First, a hot bubble bath. No, wait, not bubbles—he did not need to be reminded of Spongebob after such a long day with him. Just a hot bath with bath salts. The soothing daffodil yel—_no the blue ones._ Yes, the blue bath salts in the cute little pouch. Not the yellow ones in the box. The box was square. Must not think about things that are yellow or square.

"Lada dum, lada dee, lada dooo," Squidward sang to himself as he scrubbed his back. His own voice relaxed him. It was deep, masculine, not high-pitched or light-hearted or cheery and not frequently punctuated by an _incessant, bouncy, repetitive, mind-numbing laugh._

But his thoughts were far from such things now. They had to be—he certainly couldn't revisit the horror that had taken place that day. No, it wasn't the tour bus of anchovies that had dropped by the restaurant for lunch. And no, it wasn't the new song and dance Spongebob had invented for his customers (and had insisted on performing for every customer that day). It was in fact an incident at closing time: just as Squidward clocked out and staggered to the door in exhaustion, Spongebob had approached him and, noticing his crewmate's sullenness, said something that chilled Squidward to the bone.

"Hey, Squid!_ I'll…come over…for…a sleepover tonight._ Won't that be fun?"

Despite the physical and mental fatigue, this had sent Squidward flying home. Lock—check, deadbolt—check, bars on windows—check. Only then was he able to relax for the evening.

And even then, he was a little jumpy. Such as now when he made sure to dress in his nightshirt _before_ leaving his bathroom. A certain someone could be waiting for him in the hall.

But no one was. He was able to calm down for a short while—long enough to make it to his bedroom door—

—when a 'clang' sounded in the kitchen downstairs.

'He's here! He's down there making popcorn for his stupid sleepover!' was the thought racing through Squidward's head as he rushed down to give the intruder a piece of his mind. But when he arrived at the kitchen, the room was surprisingly void of anyone else. When a can of beans rolled to his feet, he was reminded of the canned groceries stacked on his counter. Smiling in relief, the octopus was happy to put them away in the pantry.

But shutting the pantry door seemed to cue another sound in the house, this time in the living room.

'He's turning on the TV!' Squidward dashed into the next room, but he was alone there as well.

_Creak._

The tired cephalopod mustered up the strength to make a mad dash back upstairs…Ah; he had left the bathroom door open. Those hinges needed to be oiled.

"Okay…you're running…yourself…ragged…Squiddy," he told himself in between panting. He was becoming lightheaded from weariness, and so staggered into his bedroom.

Once inside, he paused to scan the dark room for any rectangular shadows with legs. Finding none, he slid into bed eagerly.

Squidward sighed in relaxation as the back of his head sank into his pillow. He had longed for sleep so badly, the headrest inside the pillowcase felt…softer…squishier…so much that—maybe it _wasn't_ his imagination…

But he was far too worn out to entertain that idea. He snuggled his head deeper into the pillow, too tired to care how unusually soft, or squishy, or sponge-like it was.


	10. Misunderstanding

**Misunderstanding**

"Say, Sandy?"

"Yeah?"

"You know how I told you last week about—" A blush forming, Spongebob looked around inconspicuously to make sure no one was overhearing them, and then smiled at his mammalian friend. "Well, you know…"

"Oh…" Realization came over Sandy's features. "About the rash?"

"_No,_ silly; about Squidward."

"Ohh, that, yeah…You really have a crush on him?"

Spongebob's yellow face had become bright red as he smiled almost bashfully.

Though returning the smile, Sandy seemed less than enthused. "Uhh, no offense, buddy; but what do you really see in that guy? He's grumpy and doesn't really seem to fancy you."

"Oh he's pretty stuffy, all right, but you should see him when he's happy." His yellow color returning, the sponge took on a cooler, more suave pose and tone. "And you know what? I think he's finally falling for the old Spongebob charm."

"Really?" Sandy replied rather skeptically.

"Yeah, you were with me the other day, remember? Squidward said he couldn't resist me."

"Hate to burst yer bubble, partner, but he said he couldn't _stand_ you."

"Oh, _peeshaw,_" Spongebob waved it away. "He even said I was incredible."

"He said you were _insufferable._"

"He said I was unparalleled."

"He said you were _unpleasant._"

"He said I was _alluring._"

"_Annoying._"

"Well," Spongebob said a little crossly. "He said I was a prominent part of his life _whether he likes it or not._"

"Uh…actually," Sandy admitted, "yeah, that _is_ what he said, but I don't think—"

"Ah, see? I rest my case." Feeling victorious, he began walking off proudly. "Then Squidward even told me that I just plain drive him crazy."

"Well, yeah, he _did_ say that…"


End file.
